


Tailored

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal misses Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:13:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Bedelia learns the measure of a man.





	Tailored

One of the first things Hannibal did when they arrived in Italy was employ the services of a tailor. The man, elderly but nimble, flitted about Hannibal with a measuring tape and offered him books of fabric from which to choose a wardrobe.

Bedelia didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was watching. It would have been beneath both of them to pretend she wasn’t observing him. She had to be able to predict him to the best of her ability if she were to survive him, and he couldn’t begrudge her trying.

He picked some garish striped suiting that made her cringe inwardly. She went to pour a glass of wine.

“I’ll need nine shirts,” he said to the tailor in Italian. He wanted an array of linen and silk as well as a cotton so fine it gleamed like pearl.

“Anything for your wife?” the tailor asked.

“I prefer to speak for myself,” Bedelia said,  "and to shop for myself, as well.“

The tailor bowed his head toward her in apology and began gathering up his accouterments.

Hannibal stopped him. "One other thing, first.”

He requested two more suits, one in a summer weight wool and one in a heavier fabric for winter. Three more shirts were added to his order, and the same number of neck ties. Most of the new measurements he dictated to the tailor were slightly smaller than his own, with the exception of the hips and thighs.

Bedelia understood at once, but waited until the tailor had left to speak again.

“Did you measure Will Graham as he lay dying on your kitchen floor?”

“He didn’t die,” Hannibal reminded her. “Therefore, he was not dying. And there was no need to measure him.”

“Your artist’s eye?” she asked.

He poured himself a glass from her bottle. “I know precisely how much space Will Graham occupies when he is in a room, and how empty that room is when he leaves it.”

She hated that she wanted to ask, but couldn’t stop herself: “Do you know my measurements?”

He smiled at her, a devilish look. “I thought you liked to shop for yourself?”

“Just curious,” she said as lightly as she could, holding his gaze until he left her and busied himself with something else.

Hannibal was expecting Will to come for him, and so now she did. It might be in the summer, or it might be in the winter. There would be expertly tailored clothes waiting for him, regardless. Bedelia did not know if she would be there, too.


End file.
